Refuge at Spinner's End
by Lady Grissecon
Summary: Unrequited Narcissa/Snape. A bit angsty. One-shot.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters or anything. They belong to JKR, I just enjoy toying with them.

**A/N:** This was a dared one-shot, though I forget who gave it to me by now. Whoever it was, this is for you. :P It is a little choppy, I know, but I hope you all like it anyway. ;) Feedback and constructive criticism is always appreciated, especially the latter. Enough of my babble--here, read this!

_Refuge at Spinner's End_

Severus Snape sat alone in the dark sitting room of his small brick home, sipping a glass of elf-made wine and staring blankly at the empty fireplace front of him, watching as a candle's flickering light bounced off the walls and made the shadows dance merrily, in stark contrast to his mood. The leather sofa grunted beneath him as he shifted in his seat, moving to prop his feet up on the coffee table. The candle flickered quicker for a moment as his movement disturbed the flame from its place on the table. Severus downed the rest of his wine and set the glass down, his black eyes never leaving the ashen fireplace before him.

He continued to watch it, an expectant expression taking over his sallow face, and did not move in the slightest when suddenly bright green flames erupted inside it, tickling his chimney and casting an eerie emerald glow about the room. Tall, blond, and gracefully beautiful, Narcissa Malfoy whooshed from the opening beneath his mantelpiece and stepped delicately into the room, causing the candle to flicker fiercely and go out. Severus politely stood and walked around the coffee table towards her, his beady eyes gleaming behind that trademark curtain of hair.

"Narcissa," he muttered questioningly, surveying her closely. There were deep circles beneath her eyes, which were only complimented by her pale skin. Her eyes themselves were red-brimmed and puffy, as though she had been weeping ceaselessly, a sight he never thought he would see. In one long-fingered white hand she clutched a white frilly handkerchief, wrinkled with overuse, while the other clutched at her throat, as if that could help her keep a grip on her own sanity.

Severus, surprised as he was to see Narcissa Malfoy in such a state, hid his shock well and motioned for her to join him on the sofa. She nodded jerkily, her wavy blond hair shaking and falling about her shoulders. Once they were seated Severus pulled out his wand and conjured another wineglass, then summoned an opened bottle of blood-red wine from the kitchen. He filled their glasses and sat back in his seat, watching his companion closely and noting how the liquid shook in its container as she held it, as it always did during her late-night visits these days.

"Severus…" she whispered, the glass pressed close to her lips and distorting her voice slightly. He could sense the turmoil in her tone without enforcing his long-practiced art of Legilimency on her, and he didn't have to think on it very long to realize why. He did not voice his suspicions, however, and instead waited for her to speak and voice her sorrows, as he knew she would. She always did.

"You know that I trust you to hold our audiences in extreme confidence," she began, her voice more steady this time, and setting her glass gently on the table with a light _thunk_. He gave her a small nod of recognition and, apparently reassured, Narcissa continued. "I very much appreciate the condolence you have offered me these during these troubled times. You have convinced me that the issue with my son will be resolved and he will not be harmed, which has—"

"Cut to the chase, Narcissa, I haven't got all night," he said waspishly, causing her to recoil slightly; as true as it was, Severus did not like anyone voicing the fact that he, of all people, had been comforting her, no matter what the situation. She nodded, her lips forming so thin a line they all but disappeared. He remained defensive as she opened her mouth to continue; the way in which her tone seemed to caress him made him feel incredibly uncomfortable.

She placed her hand on his knee and he stiffened, studying her with a raised eyebrow and a cautiously curious expression. "Through your reassurance these past few weeks, I confess I have grown very… fond 

of you," she whispered, her eyebrows creased as though it took a great amount of internal willpower to say such a thing. Slowly she closed her eyes and, to his absolute astonishment, brought her lips to meet his. As Severus was not one to stand paralyzed in shock, he immediately pushed her away from him by the shoulders.

"What has gotten into you?" he asked angrily, taking a large gulp of her wine to rid the sensation of her lips on his own. Replacing her glass on the table, he sat back on the couch, still fuming, and scowled at her, his beady eyes narrowed through his curtain of hair.

Her eyes bulged a bit, giving her a somewhat crazed appearance, and her willful expression turned into one of discontent. "I—I love you!" she exclaimed, placing her hand in his knee again, though this time he immediately flicked it away. His long nose wrinkled in distaste as she looked up at him, an anguished expression on her face.

"Do not be ridiculous, you don't love me," he snapped, rolling his eyes. "You are merely exaggerating your appreciation of my concern for you," he said practically, his tone matching the one he had use countless times before in her presence, though it was much more forceful this time.

"That is not it, I am sure of it!" Narcissa said loudly, shaking her head and causing her blond hair to sway about her face. "I am profoundly and irreversibly in love with you, Severus," she whispered, moving forward to kiss him again. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away rather forcefully.

Shaking his head, Severus rose fluidly, and in keeping his hold on her, forced Narcissa to stand as well. Grasping her upper arm tightly, he steered her around the table and in front of the fireplace. "Go back home to your husband and child," he said coldly, holding out the container of Floo powder and motioning towards the empty space underneath his mantel.

"But Severus, I—" she began to protest, but he cut her off, silently wishing she hadn't come to see him at all.

"Go back to your husband, Narcissa," he repeated, his tone low and deadly. She gave him a look of mixed disappointment and distress before scooping up some powder and disappearing into the emerald flames; the glass on the table was the only sign that she had ever been.

Sighing, Severus Snape moved to sit on his sofa, in precisely the same position she had found him in the first place. Vanishing their empty glasses, he shook his head and relaxed into the comforting familiarity of the couch, closing his eyes and frowning slightly as he pondered what had just happened.

He felt somewhat remorseful for having said such things to Narcissa, but he could not lie to himself; he knew that he would never be able to offer what she needed. She would be fine with Lucius—he was a good enough man for her—and he… well, he would be fine with his memories.

As he thought this, a silvery doe erupted from end of the wand he was still clutching. He opened his eyes and watched it prance around the room, his black eyes swimming with the pains of loss. Shaking his head, Severus closed his eyes; he did not think he could bear to watch the doe fade into nothingness.

Well? What did you think? Please review, it'll only take a moment! :D


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